Lazer's Adoptables
by Lazerkat
Summary: Problem: I procrastinate too much and start too many things I don't finish. Solution: Delete the stories that make me cringe and then put the rest up here in case anyone else wants them. Enjoy.


**If anyone wants any of these stories, just let me know. You can adopt any part of the story you want; the characters, the plot, the chapters that I've written so far for them, the plan (in this story's case it would include who the killer is), or all of it. Mix and match. You do need to ask first though, to make sure someone else hasn't already asked for it.**

 **/Who am I kidding it's probably impossible that someone else already wants one of my rejects**

 **I'll be putting up the first chapter of each story to give you an idea of the character's personalities and the plot.**

 **Also I don't know why anyone would worry about this, but although I have deleted the original copies of these stories I still have back-ups of the chapters elsewhere.**

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 **Title:** Sink or Swim

 **Summary:** In the middle of the night, a yowl is heard as a warrior bounds into the camp with drastic news. One apprentice is dead. No-one knows why, but Hawkstripe is determined to find out. Everyone in RiverClan has a secret, and some are more dangerous than others . . .

 **Genre:** Mystery/Crime

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"Help! Reedpaw's been killed!"

Hawkstripe jolted awake, nearly toppling out of his nest. Only half-alert, his brain tried to make sense of the panic around him. Cats were rushing out of the den to see what the commotion was about, and yowls of dismay echoed around the camp. The brown tabby stumbled out of the warriors' den, letting the cats in front of him lead the way. Hawkstripe weaved through the confused crowd of cats to find a spot where he could see what was going on. Eventually, he settled for watching from a small corner near the fresh-kill pile. The scent of fish was tempting, but helped him wake up.

"What happened?" a calm but commanding voice inquired, emerging from the leader's den. A gray and white she-cat hurried up to him, filling him in with a low meow. _Hmm, it seems we have a murder on our paws,_ Hawkstripe observed. _So much more interesting than the usual battle casualties, I think. Such a shame that a young cat was killed though._

"Poolstar, would you like me to retrieve the body?" a white tom asked, directing his speech at the leader. Poolstar looked up at his deputy, nodding. _Don't send him,_ Hawkstripe thought, annoyed. _You need to inspect the way Reedpaw's body is positioned before you just move it. It could be vital information._

"Snowclaw, take Hawkstripe with you." Poolstar paused, before quickly amending, "Not that I don't think you can carry her by yourself, but the killer may still be down there. Besides, Hawkstripe has a knack for things like this. He may be helpful." _You bet I'll be._

Snowclaw nodded resepctfully, flicking his tail at Hawkstripe to join him. The brown tabby leapt to his paws and followed the deputy out of the camp. They quickly made it to the lakeside, where a body was lying a few tree-lengths to the left of where they were standing. Hawkstripe briskly moved close enough to see it clearly, with Snowclaw behind him.

Reedpaw's body was lying face-down in the wet sand. Behind her, pointing to the camp, were two relatively deep trenches. Careful not to disturb anything, Hawkstripe inspected the apprentice for wounds. She must have been jumped, because she had no scratch marks. Interestingly, her tail was ruffled, almost as if someone had bitten it. On the back on her head though, there were a few dark spots were the fur had been tainted by blood.

 _Strange._ Hawkstripe decided to figure out why there were deep lines in the sand. Placing a paw over one, he saw that the trench was slightly too narrow for him to lower his paw into it without disturbing the sand. _It would probably fit an apprentice's paw, though. What if she was standing where these marks are furthest from the body, and someone pulled her back to the lake by her tail?_

"Snowclaw, come here!" he called distractedly. Snowclaw hurried over to Hawkstripe, kicking up sand in his wake. Hawkstripe glared at him and meowed through gritted teeth, " _Slowly_ and _carefully_ , so you don't disturb the _evidence_." Raising an eyebrow, the deputy shrugged and slowed his pace.

"What have you found?" the white tom asked, peering at the marks in the sand. Hawkstripe used his tail to bar Snowclaw's way.

"I'm going to stand next to where the marks start, and when I nod you're going to drag me backwards by my tail," Hawkstripe instructed, ignoring the tom's question. The brown tabby got into position, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Snowclaw was ready. Hawkstripe nodded. Immediately, he felt sharp teeth clamp down and yank on his tail. Hawkstripe struggled to keep his balance and dug his claws into the sand. As he was dragged to the lake, he grimaced at the feel of his claws clogging up with sand.

After a few seconds, Hawkstripe told Snowclaw to stop. Taking a few steps back and cleaning himself up a bit, Hawkstripe was pleased to see that the marks he had made were almost identical to the other ones, except his were slightly larger and deeper. The brown tabby nodded approvingly to himself.

"Why did we do that?" Snowclaw asked, stumped. Hawkstripe gave him a withering glare. _Is he that dense? Why do I even bother with these cats?_

Sighing, Hawkstripe moved back to the body again. It appeared that Reedpaw had died because her airways were full of water and sand.

"Snowclaw," the brown tabby called, "if you wanted to drown a cat in the lake, but be able to make a quick getaway, how would you do it?"

Snowclaw gave him a weird and searching glance before answering, "I would hold them under the water while I'm still on the bank."

"Exactly!" Hawkstripe meowed. "And how would you hold them under if you were drowning them in the lake?"

"I suppose I'd only need to hold their head under to kill them," the deputy replied.

Hawkstripe nodded again, this time thoughtfully. Gesturing for Snowclaw to come closer, he grabbed the back of the white tom's head and forced it down into the sand. He held him there for a few seconds, before letting him go. Snowclaw glared at Hawkstripe, spitting out sand. _Interesting. If I can do that to a cat my size, the killer would have no problem with an apprentice._

"What was that for?" he snarled.

"Proof of theory," Hawkstripe answered absentmindedly. Going back to Reedpaw, he held out an unsheathed paw against the back of her head. His claws matched up prettty well with the red marks. "See?"

"No, I don't see, because I'm still trying to blink the sand out of my eyes," Snowclaw retorted bitterly. "And I don't see why you had to push me into the sand to prove that."

Hawkstripe shrugged. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. Now I had an excuse."

"Why you-" Snowclaw started, fur bristling.

"Are you okay?" a cat asked, emerging from the reeds.

"We're fine, Goldenstorm," Hawkstripe reasurred, forcing his tone to sound light.

Goldenstorm looked uninterested, continuing, "Poolstar thought you may have run into some trouble, since you were taking so long."

Hawkstripe shook his head, meowing, "No, we were just looking at the evidence before we left, weren't we Snowclaw?"

"Yes," Snowclaw deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at the brown warrior. "Evidence."

"Speaking of evidence, I need to check one last thing before we go," Hawkstripe added, before Goldenstorm could say anything more.

"Does it involve the body?" Goldenstorm asked, sighing. "Seriously, you don't need to do . . . this," she gestured around her with her tail, "to figure out that it was probably just a troublesome rouge. No-one from the Clan would kill Reedpaw."

Hawkstripe held his tail up for silence. "That's just it. I was going to just double-check now, but I haven't scented any cats here other than us, Reedpaw, and Miststep. Reedpaw is dead, Miststep came to investigate and then woke up the entire Clan, and now we're here. A rouge or loner's scent is still recognisable even if they try to disguse it because it's so different from the usual scents in our territory. A disgused RiverClan scent, however . . . " he trailed off, leaving the rest to piece itself together in his Clanmates' heads. Goldenstorm nodded grimly, while Snowclaw tilted his head to one side in thought.

"I don't see how this is relevant," Snowclaw admitted. _StarClan help us when he becomes our leader._

Hawkstripe sighed exasperatedly. "Remind me how you became deputy again?"

Goldenstorm gave him a condensending look, explaining, "He means that only a RiverClan cat could have done it."

Snowclaw's eyes widened. "Oh. So what are we going to do?"

Hawkstripe stood up confidently, a plan formulating in his head. "I'm going to figure out who killed Reedpaw."

"Can I help?" Snowclaw asked.

"No."


End file.
